Harry Potter and the Duke of Avalon
by marylou
Summary: Distraught after his godfather's death, Harry is wandering the halls of Hogwarts when he runs across an interesting painting. On hiatus; see profile for more info.
1. Chapter 1

Harry wandered through the halls of Hogwarts despondently. He knew it was his fault that Sirius was dead. If only he had worked harder at occlumency and hadn't angered Snape. And now his godfather was dead. He sighed.

"Something the matter?" Harry turned towards the voice, frowning. "I don't really want to ta-" He broke off. "You're a portrait."

The man shrugged. "What's your point? Just because I'm some paint on a canvas does not mean that I can not help you."

Harry shrugged. "I guess you're right." He looked closely at him. He had a pale, almost triangular face with arching brows and deep, ageless eyes that seemed to penetrate Harry even more that Dumbledore's could. He raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "So, what seems to be the problem?"

Harry laughed tiredly. "Everything." He sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall. "The last adult who cared about me just died, and it was my fault."

"Really?" The man asked. "Did you kill him, then?"

"I- I might as well have," Harry gasped. "It was all my fault." He pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them.

"How was it your fault?"

"He was trying to help me."

"So he was killed trying to protect you?"

"Yeah. If he had just not gone, if I had been more careful, he would still be alive."

The man watched him compassionately. "That does not make it your fault."

"But it was! Everyone who gets close to me ends up dying!"

"But that's not your fault. Who else are you referring to?"

"My parents."

"They are gone as well?"

Harry laughed dryly. "They're dead too. They've been dead for years. And I don't know how, but I'm sure it was somehow my fault."

"How did they die?"

"They were killed by Voldemort."

"Voldemort?"

Harry nodded. "He killed Cedric too," he whispered.

"Was he somehow connected to the death of your godfather as well?"

"Yeah, Sirius- Sirius was killed by one of Voldemort's followers, Bellatrix," Harry almost spat out the name.

"So it sounds as if this Voldemort is the one responsible, not you. What kind of a name is Voldemort, anyway?"

Harry chuckled, wiping at his eyes. "That's not his real name, it's just the name he picked for himself."

"What! Then why are you honoring him by calling him the name he chose? Call him by the name he was given at birth. He deserves nothing more than that."

Harry frowned thoughtfully. "I guess you're right about that. And I know he doesn't like the name Tom Riddle." He smiled slightly. "I'd like to see his reaction if I called him that to his face."

"Harry?" He heard someone call from around the corner. "Harry, where are you? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Hermione, I'm coming," Harry called back. He turned back to the portrait. "Thanks for, you know, talking to me." He shuffled his feet awkwardly. "It- it really helped me out."

"You are welcome, Harry. And anytime you need someone to talk to, just come and visit me. Or anytime you are bored, really. Very few people can find my portrait, and it can get lonely."

Harry stood, his hand combing through his hair to straighten it. He smiled at the other. "I'll do that." As he turned to leave, the man picked up his book from where he had set it next to him. "Oh, I almost forgot," Harry turned back to him. "What's your name?"

The man looked up with a smile. "I am Terence."


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione walked anxiously in front of the room of requirement. "I need somewhere to study horcruxes, I need somewhere to study horcruxes, I need-" she broke off as the door appeared. She shifted her heavy bag on her shoulder and reached out to open the door. Once in the room, she looked around expectantly. In the middle of the room sat a large table with chairs around it, plump cushions resting invitingly on the seats. Bookshelves lined the walls, with magical knick knacks scattered along them. Hermione looked around in amazement. The selection of books was incredible! So many rare, old manuscripts that she had only heard of. She walked further into the room. She saw what looked to be a particularly interesting book and moved towards it. As she did, she passed an alcove in between two of the bookshelves. She gave the alcove a brief, cursory glance before moving past it. She had already pulled out the book that had drawn her attention and started to flip through it when she heard a voice say, "You know, that book is rubbish."

Hermione gasped and looked up in surprise. "What do you mean?" She looked around the room, bewildered. "Where are you? How did you get in here?"

The voice laughed. "Over here." Hermione moved over to where the voice had come from, holding her wand out in front of her. She moved past the edge of a bookshelf and in front of the alcove that she had walked past earlier. Hanging on the wall of the alcove was a painting of a woman. She looked to be in her early twenties, wearing a medieval looking dress.

Hermione's brow furrowed. "What did you mean about the book?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "I would have thought that my meaning was fairly obvious. Don't bother reading it, it's nothing worthwhile, just a bunch of beauty tips."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked. "Have you read it?"

The woman laughed. "Yes, I've read it. And I also know the woman who wrote it. She could have been a brilliant enchantress but wasted all her time and magic to improve her appearance. She learned magic with my mother." She smiled. "So what kind of book are you looking for?"

Hermione bit her lip in thought. "I need to know about souls, specifically about-" she paused, "about splitting them. I couldn't find anything in the Hogwarts library that would help me."

The woman's eyes hardened. "I will not help you create one of those abominations. Those- those things desecrate the very fabric of magic. You will-"

"No, no, you've got the wrong idea," Hermione interrupted. "I don't want to know how to make them, I agree with you that they're abominations, it's just that there is a dark wizard who has made a few and-"

"What?" the woman gasped. "He has made more than one? Is he insane?"

"Actually, yeah, he is kinda insane. Anyway, we need to know how to destroy them, and anything about them that we can use to find them." Hermione looked up at the painting with hope. "Do you know of anything that might help me?"

The woman looked carefully at her before seeming to come to a decision. "I never went near anything to do with soul magic. It's what caused my parent's death. But if this is where the room brought you, then the book you need must be somewhere in here. This is the Camelot room; all the books in here were written during Camelot's renaissance."

"Camelot? Really?" Hermione muttered, looking around the room more carefully.

"Yes, and the person most likely to know about soul magic is my great aunt. That's her book over there." She pointed at a book sitting in the middle of one of the tables. It was large, with a leather cover.. Hermione walked over and picked it up off the table, running her fingers over the spine. She walked back towards the painting with the book in her hand and opened the cover. Her eyes flitted up in shock. "It says that it was written by Lady Morgan. Lady Morgan of Camelot."

"Yes," the woman said reminiscently. "Great aunt Morgan. She taught me most everything I know about magic, as well as everything my mother knew."

"But-" Hermione sputtered. "Morgan, as in Morgan le Fay, King Arthur's half-sister and mortal enemy?"

"Half-sister, yes, but I don't know where you got the idea that she was Arthur's enemy. Morgan would never go against him. Now, it's possible that over time people have confused Morgan with her sister Morgause, because Morgause has tried to kill Arthur multiple times."

"Huh," Hermione frowned. "That's not what my book on Camelot said. It didn't even mention Morgause. I wonder what else they got wrong." She looked up. "So is Morgause also your great-aunt?"

She shook her head. "No, Morgause is my grandmother."

Hermione almost choked in surprise. "What? Your grandmother tried to kill King Arthur? Doesn't that make you his enemy?"

The woman laughed. "Oh, no, my father and most of his brothers have forsaken their mother and sworn loyalty to Arthur." Her face darkened. "Morgause was the one who killed my parents."

Hermione winced. "Oh, I'm sorry." The woman shrugged. "It's fine. It's been more than thousand years since it happened. I've had time to get over it."

"Look," Hermione said. "I feel like we've gotten off to a bad start. I haven't even introduced myself. My name is Hermione Granger, and I'm a sixth year student."

The woman smiled. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Hermione. I am Luneta."

Hermione smiled, turning back to the book. "So do you know what part of the book I should read?"

Luneta shrugged. "Like I said, I never learned anything about soul magic, and I never read that book. My best guess is that if Morgan included the information that she put it either in the middle or near the end. And there may be some kind of enchantment that you have to get past before you can read the most powerful section."

Hermione looked up in surprise. "Is that possible? I've never heard of anything like that before."

Luneta nodded. "Oh yes, Morgan was very keen on not letting the unworthy read her words. You'll likely have to prove that your intentions are good and you won't use the information to empower yourself."

"How do I do that?"

"I've no idea."

"Thanks, you're a lot of help," Hermione huffed.

Luneta smirked. "Well, I try."

Hermione glanced down at her watch and jumped. "Oh, no, I have potions right now! Thank you so much for the help, is it alright if I take the book out of this room?"

"As long as you return it when you are done, then yes."

"Yes, yes, I'll do that." Hermione rushed out the door. Luneta watched her leave, smiling to herself. "I do hope she does return; I haven't talked with anyone besides the other paintings since the first wizarding war."


	3. Chapter 3

"Terence?" Luneta called. There was a brief moment before he replied. "What is it, Luneta? This had better be good; I was in the middle of a chess game with Barnabas the Barmy."

"So sorry to interrupt," Luneta huffed, rolling her eyes. "I had a visitor."

"Hmm. Did you really."

"Terence, are you even paying attention to me?"

"Of course. You just said that you had a visitor."

"Right. Well, it was a young witch by the name of Hermione, and-"

"I think I've heard of her. Wasn't she the one who-"

"Terence! You interrupted me! Let me finish!"

"Of course," he said smoothly. "So sorry to interrupt."

She glared at him. "As I was saying, Hermione was trying to find information about soul magic. She said that there is a wizard who has been delving into it."

His face grew grim. "I was afraid of that."

"What!" she shrieked. "Why haven't you done something about it?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Luneta, I am just a painting. There is very little that I could have done about it."

"Well, you could at least have told someone what was going on, instead of just ignoring it and hoping that it would go away."

He waved his painted hand at her. "Never mind that, tell me what you know."

"Hermione said that there was a dark wizard, she didn't tell me his name, or what he's going by. You know, for some reason all the dark wizards or witches who try to take over the world make up a fancy new name for themselves that will strike fear into people's hearts. I don't know why. Maybe that' the reason they turn dark, because they don't like their name. Maybe it's all just built up resentment towards their parents. With that in mind, I probably should have gone dark since Father kept saying he named me after his favorite dog." She scowled.

"Focus here, Luneta!"

"Alright, there's no need to snap at me! Anyway, going back to before I was so rudely interrupted, this dark wizard has split his soul into several separate pieces."

"Several?" Terence choked out. "Are you sure?"

"It's what Hermione said. She said that he has become somewhat insane as a result. I showed her Great-Aunt Morgan's book."

"Good, good," he nodded distractedly. "That will definitely help her."

"Are you going to do anything else to help them?" Luneta asked.

"As I said before, Luneta, I am just a painting. There is almost nothing I can do."

"Almost. You said almost. That means that there is _something_ that you can do."

He bit his lip in thought. "I- there may be something but- there's only a small chance of it being successful."

"Are you going to tell me anything else about this supposed plan of yours?"

He smiled gently. "No. You'll just have to wait and see. If it succeeds, then you will definitely know. It if doesn't, then it won't matter anyway."


	4. Chapter 4

Inside his painting in the headmaster's office, Dumbledore glanced up from his nap. "Young man," he said. "I do not know how you have managed to enter my portrait, but I will have to ask you to leave."

The other man looked amused, leaning against Dumbledore's desk. "Actually, I had a few things that I wanted to discuss with you."

"Oh, yes? And what is that?" Dumbledore peered at him over the tops of his half-moon spectacles.

"Horcruxes."

There was a brief glimmer of shock in his eyes. "You are right. We do need to talk. How do you know about them? And, forgive me, but I do not think that I recognize you. Who are you?"

The man sat down on top of his desk, his long legs dangling off the edge. "My name is Terence. You probably won't have seen my painting; it's in a primarily unused portion of the castle. A friend of mine has a painting in the Room of Requirement, for when people need advice or someone to speak to. She recently spoke with a troubled young witch by the name of Hermione Granger."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrow. "And she told her about the horcruxes?"

Terence shook his head. "She did not name them, only described them. But my friend's parents were killed because of horcruxes, so she was able to recognize them from the description."

"You've mentioned her, this friend of yours, a few times already. Who was she?"

"Her name is Luneta. She is King Arthur's great-niece, and was trained by Lady Morgan herself."

"Really? I had thought that Herpo the Foul was the only one to create a horcrux before Voldemort. That would have been perhaps one or two hundred years after the time of Camelot."

Terence shrugged. "There were horcruxes before Herpo, but his was the first and only that is commonly known. But after my brief experience with them, I researched and studied soul magic. And now I would like to offer my assistance."

"What kind of assistance can you offer?"

Terence smirked. "A ritual to locate horcruxes."

Dumbledore stared at him in shock. "Is that even possible?"

He nodded. "It takes a while to prepare. And it does use blood magic, so by your standards it would be considered dark magic."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "I do not care what means we use to defeat him. The outcome is the only thing that matters."

"I imagine that Headmaster Snape could help us as well," Terence mused.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, since he's still working for you."

"I understand how you might not have gotten the news, since you're a portrait, but Severus was the one who killed me. He betrayed us all. I thought that maybe I could save him, but his soul was already lost to me." He sighed sadly, his eyes mournful.

Terence chuckled. "I don't think you understand, Albus. My portrait was placed in this castle by its founders. I was good friends with Salazar himself. There are few things that happen here that are hidden from me."

Dumbledore eyed him closely before relaxing. "Salazar? Really?"

He shrugged. "He was not how the stories made him out to be."

Dumbledore sighed resignedly. "I suppose there is no point in denying it, is there. Yes, Severus is still loyal to me, and we should speak to him about this. He could likely help us with this ritual of yours."

. . . . .

Severus sighed, collapsing onto his chair and letting his head thunk down onto the desk.

"Severus?" Dumbledore asked, clearing his throat carefully.

"Do you know what he's done now?" Severus said quietly. "He released some of the Weasley twins' fireworks in the dining hall. Alecto's hair caught on fire!" His mouth twitched slightly. "And while it was somewhat amusing, they'll definitely make him suffer for it. The boy hasn't any sense of self-preservation at all," he grumbled.

"Neville Longbottom?"

He laughed brokenly. "Who else?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat again. "Severus, I wonder if we could discuss something with you."

"We?"

"I have had a visitor."

Severus closed his eyes in resignation. "You've what?"

"I have had a visitor who thinks that he knows a way to locate the horcruxes."

"Let me get this straight." He straightened up in his chair. "Some stranger just waltzed in here and told you that he knows how to destroy the secret objects that no one knows about, the ones that are keeping the Dark Lord alive, and you just believe him."

"Of course," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

"You-" Severus sighed. "And you didn't think for one moment that maybe they were a spy?" His voice was high with disbelief.

"Really, Severus, there's no need to always assume the worst. And anyway, I-" He was interrupted.

"And anyway, we've met before." Severus glanced up at the painting in shock at the man who had just walked onto the frame.

"You." Terence smiled somewhat sheepishly.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, surprised. "You've met. You never told me that," he said to no one in particular.

Severus glared at him before turning back to Terence. "So? What's your great idea?"

Terence leaned against Dumbledore's painted desk, his arms crossed against his chest. "After my friends died trying to destroy horcruxes many, many years ago, I studied and researched them, just in case I was ever confronted by soul magic again. I discovered an ancient druidic ritual, and adapted it to where it can locate horcruxes."

"What does this ritual involve?"

Terence hesitated. "It requires a potion to be prepared and then drunk by the person seeking the horcruxes, and then a circle must be drawn with the blood of the supplicant beneath the new moon, and then-" He broke off.

Severus' eyes narrowed. "And then what?"

"And then a vial of forcibly taken unicorn blood must be consumed by fiendfyre in the middle of the blood circle."

Severus stared at him in shock before turning to Dumbledore. "This is your great plan? Forcibly taken unicorn blood!"

"Severus, the ritual does not require that we be the ones to kill the unicorn."

Severus glanced at Terence for confirmation. He nodded.

"So I just tell the Dark Lord that I need it for a potion? And what reason do I gave for not acquiring it myself?"

"I'm sure that Bellatrix would be delighted to procure it for you."

Severus grimaced. "You're right. I could pass it off as a favor, to try and get her on my side. I'm sure she would love to kill a unicorn. The Dark Lord has forbidden us from hunting in the forest, and she has been most unhappy about it."

He exchanged a glance with Dumbledore before nodding slowly. "It don't know if this ritual of your will work, but it's worth a chance. It can't really make things worse than they are already. I'll have to think of an excuse to need unicorn blood." He hesitated. "There is another matter that perhaps you could help us with," he said to Terence.

"Severus," Dumbledore warned. "What are you doing?"

"When the Dark Lord went to kill the Potters," he continued doggedly, ignoring Dumbledore's glares. "His soul was so destroyed that a shard broke off and attached itself to the boy."

Terence bit his lip. "Yes, I can see why that would be a problem." he glanced down at his hands, deep in thought, before looking up again. "When Voldemort was reborn, what ritual did he use?"

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son. Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master. Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe." Why do you ask?" Severus asked, his dark brows furrowed.

"And whose blood did he used. Was it Harry's?"

"Yes. But why-" Dumbledore began before breaking off. "Oh. Do you think it would-?"

Terence shrugged. "I don't know. But it could be a possibility."

"What?" Severus snarled.

"It's possible, that since Voldemort has Harry's blood in his veins, that it would tie Harry's life to Riddle's."

Severus stared at him. "Are you saying the the Dark Lord is Potter's horcrux?"

"Well, not really, but if it helps you to think of it that way, then go ahead. The protection that Harry has, from Lily's sacrifice, might be kept alive in Riddle's body. It's just a guess right now, but it's still enough to give us hope."

"Yes, exactly." Dumbledore nodded.

Severus sighed. "I suppose this means that we'll have to contact Potter, doesn't it. The world must hate me."

* * *

Good news, people! I have come up with an actual plot for this!

I've always thought that Terence would make a good Slytherin, always keeping secrets and sneaking around the castle.

Also, just to clarify what Terence is saying about his past experience with soul magic, if you've read The Legend of the King, (and if you haven't, then Spoiler Alert) then you may recall that Morgause approached Hecate asking for power, and to receive that power, she had to tie her life to something else, and that made me automatically think of horcruxes. In the end, Lynet and Gaheris, Luneta's parents, died while trying to kill Morgause, which is both my favorite and my least favorite part of the series. So that is the extent of Terence's personal experience with horcruxes.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione sat at the table in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, flipping through the pages of her book when she heard the cough. It was coming from her beaded bag, sitting on the table. She dug through it, somehow managing to find the correct painting and pulling it out.

"Yes?" she asked. "May I help you?"

"I have a message for you," Phineas Nigellus Black sneered at her.

"Well, you can tell Snape to go bite a hippogriff's behind," Hermione said, looking down at her book again.

Phineas rolled his eyes. "It's not from the current headmaster, it's from Dumbledore."

At this, Hermione looked up at him again. "Prove it."

He disappeared behind the frame for a moment before coming back. "Your demonic cat jumped on the headmaster's robes and ate the lemon drops from his pocket."

She set the book down on the table, putting a piece of parchment in as a bookmark. "Harry! Ron? Get down here!"

There was the sound of thundering feet on the stairs, then Harry and Ron stumbled into the room. "Hermione? What's wrong?"

"He says he has a message for us from Dumbledore," she nodded at Phineas. "And he gave me proof that he actually is from the headmaster."

"What?" Harry asked. "Dumbledore told him things? Important things?" He looked hurt.

"Actually, I don't really have a message," Phineas interrupted.

"Then why'd I even have to come down here?" grumbled Ron.

"I'm supposed to bring someone else in through this painting. They have information for you."

Hermione looked surprised. "Can you do that? I didn't think it was possible."

Phineas shrugged. "Not for this man. He's the exception to almost every rule."

Hermione frowned in bemusement. "What do you mean? Who is it?"

He looked amused. "Impatient little mudblood, aren't you."

"Hey!" Ron gripped his wand tightly, glaring at Phineas. "What do you mean by-" He was interrupted by another voice.

"Thank you Phineas, that will be all."

He smiled ingratiatingly and bowed slightly before moving out of the frame. He was soon replaced by another man. He was tall with dark hair and a smooth, triangular face under high arching brows. His eyes were the brightest and clearest that Hermione had ever seen. She thought that he had an almost timeless look.

"What?" Harry gasped. "I remember you!"

"Really?" Hermione turned to him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I- it was fifth year, after Sirius-" Harry stared at Terence. "What are you doing here?"

"Well," Terence began smoothly. "I believe that I may have information about horcruxes that could help you."

"Horcrux? What's a horcrux?" Harry asked innocently.

Terence raised a slender brow. "The soul fragments that you are hunting."

Harry hesitated. "How do you know about that?"

Terence gestured at Hermione.

"Me?" she asked in shock.

He nodded. "You told my friend about them."

"Your friend?"

"Luneta."

Hermione blinked in surprise. "Really? Does that mean that you're from Camelot as well? Were you a knight? Or a lord?"

"No, I was a squire." He smiled slightly, as if there was an inside joke that only he knew about. "I was Sir Gawain's squire, Arthur's nephew. And when my friends, Luneta's parents, were killed because of a horcrux, I learned all that I could about them."

"Hermione?" Harry asked. "Who's this Luneta?"

"Right before the headmaster's funeral, I went to the Room of Requirement, looking for a book, or any kind of information that I could find, and there was a portrait of her."

Ron spoke up for the first time. "Not to be rude or anything, but why should we trust you? I mean, I'm not going to do whatever you say just because Harry met you a few years back. What proof do you have?"

Terence looked amused. "So suspicious," he mused.

"With good reason," responded Ron.

Terence nodded. "Would Dumbledore's word be enough for you? I will need your absolute trust in this, especially when I bring in another individual to help."

Harry shrugged. "I guess? Yeah, if you could somehow manage to prove that you had Dumbledore's trust, that would be good. But I'm not sure how you'll do that."

"I can bring him here."

"You can?" Harry looked hopeful.

"Just his painting," Terence warned.

"See, that's one thing that I don't understand," Hermione put in. "It shouldn't be possible for you to bring another painting with you. It shouldn't even be possible for you to be here in someone else's painting."

Terence shrugged, a mysterious smirk on his face. "I guess I'm just special. I'll go get Dumbledore." He turned and left the painting.

Behind him, Hermione frowned. "I feel like he was avoiding that question."

Harry shrugged. "As long as he actually knows a way to help us, I don't really care."

A few minutes later Terence was back, this time with Albus Dumbledore crowded into the frame with him. "Harry, my boy!" he beamed.

"Sir?" Harry asked in shock. He hadn't actually expected Terence to bring him with him.

"Harry, my boy, listen to Terence," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling. "I believe that he just might know how to finish this." His eyes grew even more serious, losing their twinkle. "Harry, there are a few things that you must know first. Things that perhaps I should have told you sooner."


	6. Chapter 6

"Harry, there are a few things that you must know first. Things that perhaps I should have told you sooner."

"What? What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers in front of his face as he leaned back in his armchair. "Harry, my boy, have you ever wondered why you share a connection with Voldemort?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"We must get rid of that connection before Lord Voldemort can be destroyed."

"Ok," Harry frowned. "I guess that sort of makes sense. But why?"

Hermione gasped. "But- Professor Dumbledore, does that mean-"

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid it does, Miss Granger."

"Wait, what?" Harry looked confused. Hermione turned to him, tears beginning to shimmer in her eyes. "Harry, I think your scar is a horcrux."

"Wait," Ron interrupted. "Does that mean Harry has to die?"

"Not necessarily."

"But how?" Harry burst out. "How is my scar a horcrux? Why in Merlin's name did Voldemort do that?"

"I don't believe it was intentional, Harry. My theory is that, when Voldemort went to kill you as a child, his soul was so fractured and broken that when his killing curse rebounded, it broke an extra piece off of the whole. That piece of soul attached itself to the only living thing left in the house: you. This explains how you have always been able to sense Voldemort's emotions and how you are a parselmouth."

Harry had grown white. He sat down suddenly in one of the chairs. "I have to die, don't I," he said softly.

"Not necessarily," Dumbledore repeated. His eyes twinkled mysteriously.

"You know, it's not necessary to be so dramatic," Terence interrupted. "The plan is for you to overdose on the Draught of Living Death," he said to Harry. "Resulting in a temporary cessation of life, and then you would be resuscitated using a combination of the Wiggenweld potion and the muggle method."

"You mean like CPR?" Hermione asked.

"Exactly," Dumbledore twinkled.

"Great," Ron said. "It's a plan. But who's going to be the one to off Harry?"

Harry winced. "Can we please not talk about this so flippantly?"

"I mean," Ron continued, "There's no way I could do it. And I don't think Hermione would either. So how are we going to do it?"

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said. "That is another thing that I must discuss with you."

Harry frowned. "What?"

"I believe Severus would be willing to do it." The trio stared at him in shock before Ron broke. "Of course he'd be willing to _kill_ Harry, it's all he's ever wanted! And then he'd go running back to his master, to brag about how he'd kill Harry, and _how could you even consider it!"_ he yelled the last bit at the portrait, accidentally getting spit on it. Dumbledore didn't seem to notice the Weasley spittle freckling his portrait.

Hermione grimaced and cleaned the portrait with her wand. "Ron's right. That is a horrible idea. Right, Harry?" she turned to him. He had a pensive look on his face. "Harry, tell me you're not considering doing this."

"I don't know," Harry said slowly. "Do we have any other solution? What do you think?" he asked Terence. The mysterious man had a look of disgust on his face. "I think this would have gone much smoother if I had come alone." He ignored Dumbledore's hurt look. "Severus Snape is a spy."

"He killed Dumbledore," Harry stated coldly, his eyes unbelieving.

Dumbledore spoke up. "Because I asked him to."

"Why would you do a stupid thing like that?" Ron asked. "I mean, that's a really stupid thing. Why would anyone do that?"

"Your arm," Hermione said, a look of dawning realization growing on her face. Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Miss Granger is correct. The curse on my arm was fatal. It had been contained for the interim, but in the end, I would have died from it within less than two years."

"So you thought that Snape-assisted suicide was your best option?"

"Being the death eater to kill me, Voldemort's greatest enemy, would have sealed Severus' spot in Voldemort's inner circle for quite some time. And, I must confess, I hoped that Severus would be named as the new headmaster so that he could protect the students."

"I thought Harry was his greatest enemy."

"Well, I wouldn't really say that," Terence said. "I don't think that Riddle fears Harry so much as he fears what Harry might become. He's more like Riddle's obsession."

"But Snape _hates_ Harry," Ron whinged, returning to the previous topic. ""How can we trust him with this?"

Dumbledore peered over the tops of his spectacles at the three, looking through the painting at them. "Severus does not hate Harry as much as he seems to."

"Oh, that's a relief," Ron grumbled. "' _Not as much as he seems'_. Cause he seems to hate Harry an awful lot."

"There is much about Severus that you do not know.' He smiled mysteriously. Ron stared at him. "Are you going to tell us?"

"No," Terence interrupted, "He's not. That's Severus' personal business, and he should be the one to choose what you know and what you don't."

"Of course," Dumbledore said. "I wouldn't dream of breaking his trust."

"There's nothing we can show you to prove that Severus is on our side," Terence said to the three Gryffindors. "You will just have to take our word for it."

Hermione stood up. "Excuse us." She grabbed Ron and Harry and dragged them out of the room. They had a whispered conversation in the corner of the room, a hastily cast muffliato protecting them. Terence and Dumbledore watched placidly from the portrait. After a few minutes, they seemed to have finished their conversation and returned to the portrait. Harry glanced at the two others at his side and squared his shoulders. "Ok."

Dumbledore's face brightened. "You believe us?"

"I- I guess, yeah, we do." Despite Harry's statement, Ron still looked disgruntled.

"Wonderful!" Dumbledore beamed. "I shall go tell Severus that you agree with our plan." He left through the side of the portrait, presumably back to his painting in Hogwarts, leaving Terence behind.

Terence rolled his eyes. "I should probably go with him to make sure he doesn't leave anything important out."


End file.
